I found myself staring at the incense tonight. Watching it burn. Watching the smoke slither into the air. Smelling it. Noticing others smell it. It filled the room with something nostalgic, moving, and unique.
We're all that incense. Burning. Fragile. Burdened by time, our own glowing embers sliding toward the bottom, consuming, and eventually unable to burn.
May we all be filling the room with a fragrance, a sacred scent, while we burn with purpose.